The League of Grateful Sons
How Generational Honor Preserves Nations
by Douglas W. Phillips, Esq., May 21, 2009
Editor’s Note: In March of 2005, Vision Forum’s film team embarked upon a never-to-be-repeated “journey of honor” to chronicle the stories of our WWII fathers who fought on the blank sand beaches of Iwo Jima in 1945. The footage captured during this sixtieth anniversary tour formed the basis for our documentary, The League of Grateful Sons, which was released that October. Since the release of our film, millions more of our WWII veterans have died, and the time is fast closing when the remnant of these men will still be with us. In anticipation of Memorial Day, we would encourage you to read this powerful testimony published four years ago of the faithful fathers and honoring sons whose lives were profoundly shaped by the Battle of Iwo Jima — and to honor the vets who you know who sacrificed greatly to secure our freedoms.
In the last sixty years, fewer people have visited the island of Iwo Jima than have climbed Mt. Everest. Resting at the base of the Bonin Island chain, Iwo is one of the most remote and isolated clumps of volcanic rock and sand in the Pacific. Except for vegetation and the small Japanese military installation that guards the lonely airport, there is little sign of life anywhere on this remote four-and-half mile long outpost.
Of all the remaining battlefield monuments to the Second World War, Iwo Jima is singular. It is an entire island largely untouched for sixty years and dedicated to the memory of one month in the Spring of 1945 when more than 100,000 men were locked in a battle unprecedented for its bloodshed and iconic in its significance to the American people.
Even beneath the surface, there are reminders. More than eleven miles of underground tunnels and fifteen hundred rooms once housing 21,000 Japanese defenders remain. One can still find bayonets, boots, and even skeletal remains in open view, undisturbed and exactly where they have rested for more than half a century — haunting reminders to a vicious conflict in which 70,000 American fighting men descended on this speck of an island for what would become the defining battle in Marine Corps history.
This is a destination where old men go to remember the fallen comrades of their youth. It is an island where sons go to honor their fathers.
And one day a year, the Japanese government opens Iwo Jima to the small handfuls of veterans and their families and friends who come to remember and pay homage to the fallen.
On March 12, 2005, the Vision Forum Faith of Our Fathers film team hit the beaches of Iwo Jima with more than eighty aged veterans who battled on those same black sands in 1945. Our day on Iwo was part of a journey of honor — a three-week tour of the Pacific in which we sought to record on film the wisdom of those surviving men whose lives were forever marked by thirty-six days of hellish warfare. It was a mission of multi-generational faithfulness dedicated to honoring our fathers and remembering the providence of God over the World War II generation.
Though we were astonished by the stamina and persevering spirit of these grandfather heroes, we knew they would never again return to the island. There will be no seventieth celebration with 95-year-old men walking the beaches, combing through the caves, or climbing the 546-foot Mt. Suribachi. This was it — the closing adieu to an event which has remained with these men every day of their life for sixty years. This was the last time to speak of ancient battles with ancient warriors. It was the last time to smell the air, to sift the sand, and to weep where beloved brothers exchanged with blood their own futures so that children yet to be born could have the hope of peace. It was the final farewell.
But among our group of pilgrims was a very special band of brothers, each united by a common loss, a common legacy, and a common heart of gratitude. Theirs was a story within the broader story; a record of devotion so compelling that we often labored late into the night to capture, record, and process each precious testimony.
We called them “The League of Grateful Sons” — and their story is the true tale of boys who spent their life loving and dreaming about the fathers who never came home from Iwo Jima.
The Father Who Never Died
“Johnny Boy” was five years old when he received this letter from his daddy — Lt. Col. John Augustus Butler, Sr. It was the latest of many communications his father had sent since departing for the Pacific. Each note was filled with encouragement, manly counsel, and fatherly love prepared from fields of battle by a man who would not allow a world war to interfere with his duties to instruct his son.
But this letter was different. It was the last communication Johnny Boy ever received from his “proud dad.”
Note the date — February 18, 1945, the eve of D-Day. On February 19, Lt. Col. John Butler would hit the black sands of Iwo Jima as commander of 1st Battalion, 27th Regiment, 5th Marine Division, leading over one thousand men into the fight for their lives against an entrenched Japanese enemy. Fourteen days later, the popular battalion commander and devoted father of three would lose his life in the performance of his duty, fighting on the frontlines.
It is now sixty years later, and Johnny Boy is a grandfather.
I first met John Butler, Jr. on the plane to Guam and was immediately taken by this sixty-five year old son’s irrepressible passion for his father. Within moments of making his acquaintance, he was unfolding documents and showing me precious letters of the man he loved.
He literally grabbed one member of my team, looked him in the eye, and asked, “Have you heard of my father? Do you know the things he did?” He pulled out an accordion file-folder, crammed full of dozens upon dozens of letters — letters exchanged between “Johnny Boy” and “Daddy”; love letters written between his father and mother; letters written to his mother by men who served under his father’s command.
And then there were pictures — scores of them — photos that catalogued his father’s life and testimony.
Great things happen when fathers love and disciple their sons. That is why, for sixty years, this son has loved the daddy who never came home. For sixty years, he has read and re-read his father’s instructions to him. For sixty years, he has remained devoted in his heart to the man whose wisdom and love, communicated through battlefield letters, has been a guiding light in his life.
He put it simply: “I feel like my father has always been here with me.”
At this point, the words of the Eternal Son came to our minds:
Then answered Jesus and said unto them, ‘Verily, verily, I say unto you, The Son can do nothing of himself, but what he seeth the Father do: for what things soever he doeth, these also doeth the Son likewise. For the Father loveth the Son, and sheweth him all things that himself doeth...’ (John 5:19-20)
The Heroism of the Fathers is the Legacy of the Sons
I will open my mouth in a parable: I will utter dark sayings of old: Which we have heard and known, and our fathers have told us. We will not hide them from their children, shewing to the generation to come the praises of the LORD, and his strength, and his wonderful works that he hath done. For he established a testimony in Jacob, and appointed a law in Israel, which he commanded our fathers, that they should make them known to their children: That the generation to come might know them, even the children which should be born; who should arise and declare them to their children: That they might set their hope in God, and not forget the works of God, but keep his commandments. (Psalm 78:2-7)
For the sixtieth anniversary of their father’s death, John Butler, Jr. and younger brother Clinton (only four months old when his father was killed) decided to return to the island where their father was ushered into eternity. It was to be a pilgrimage of sonship to remember and give thanks for the man who in death left a legacy of love and devotion.
It gives a son confidence to know his father was a man of character. John, Jr. describes his father this way:
My father’s story is one of love, the love between him and my mother, love for and faith in God, a love for humanity and the men he led, and great pride in the Marine Corps he served. Those whom he led and those who knew him, speak of his exceptional character, genuine friendliness, and the superb leadership of his battalion in training and in combat.
In the providence of God, several of the men traveling with us knew the devoted father of John, Jr. and Clinton. They had served along side of Lt. Col. John Butler during the war and were able to give first hand accounts to his sons.
Most notable among these men was Col. Gerald Russell, the senior ranking veteran of Iwo Jima on our trip. A member of the first U.S. Marine Corp Officer Candidate’s class in American history, and a battalion commander at the age of 26, Russell (now 88) was wounded on Iwo the day Lt. Col. Butler was killed. Russell, who following Butler’s death would later take command of his battalion, explained:
There were a lot of leaders whom men followed who they did not like. John Butler was not among them. He was a man’s man. Everybody loved him. He was the kind of man that would prepare his boys for battle by going man to man, putting his arms on them, and whispering personal words of encouragement to them.
Growing up, Johnny Boy knew this about his father. His mother told him. He heard report after report from men who had been friends with his dad. But he also knew it experientially. He knew it because John Butler, Sr. was a man who modeled true fatherhood by taking time to prioritize the mission of giving counsel to a son — even in the thick of battle.
John, Jr. explained how his father’s life of heroic leadership at home and in the battlefield became an enduring testimony of hope in his own life:
His image and deeds always loomed large and have been a major influence in my own life.... His smiling image was always on the mantelpiece over the fire place in the living room of our family home, and my mother, who never remarried, and never considered another man in her life, spoke often of their life together in stories told over and over again.
John Butler, Jr. spent many hours opening his heart with the Faith of Our Fathers film team. As he presented to us ancient letters, we knew we were peering into something sacred and wonderful. His father had written him directions on how to live life. These directions were a guidepost for him. His father had demonstrated tender love through his written words. These words were the vehicles whereby the boyish hurt over the loss of a father was transformed into a lifetime of honor, gratitude, and vision. In short, his father had given him an inheritance more valuable than gold; he had given himself.
In addition to his general call for his son to be a boy of faith and prayers, two themes emerged in the Butler letters: (1) Some things are worth fighting for; and (2) Take care of women and children.
Some Things are Worth Fighting For
Johnny Boy learned that some things are worth fighting for. There is a time when a man must leave the comfort of his home and give his all in defense of family and freedom. Evil exists, and when that which a man most cherishes is in peril, he must not cower and run. He must face the enemy head-on.
This father made it clear to his son that he was fighting for a way of life — he was fighting to preserve the sanctity of his home; to ensure the safety of his wife and to secure hope for his children. He was fighting to protect his family from tyranny and his native land from those who would set themselves up as God.
John Butler’s letters to “Johnny Boy” were a call to bold manhood. In them, John, Sr. communicated truths on leadership and faithfulness. His letters to his son conveyed, in unmistakable terms, that the men fighting on Iwo were fighting to secure a future for their loved ones. They were fighting for the opportunity for their sons to one day lead as men and embrace the principles they stood for — to act with honor, purity, and courage in establishing families of their own.
Women and Children First!
One of the most remarkable messages of the John Butler letters is that men must treat women properly. This was the principle of the Butler patriarch both on the battlefield and the homestead. John Butler, Jr. explained to us how his dad’s intense chivalry fostered an “uncommon love affair” between his mother and father that lasted a lifetime.
“My mother was a beautiful woman, but she never remarried,” John explained to me. “She remained forever devoted to the memory of my father and the task of raising her sons.”
Johnny Boy was raised to believe that the strong must sacrifice for the weak. Men must be willing to give their lives to protect women and children because “greater love hath no man than this: that a man lay down his life” for those he loves (John 15:13).
John, Jr. removed from his father’s sacred archive yet another letter — a testimony to a father who, while caught in the throes of the Second World War, took time to admonish his son in the ancient chivalric code.
Iwo Jima Was a Battle of Men for Women and Children
We live in an effeminate society where politicians and pastors have ignored the age-old principle of male sacrifice taught to us by Christ in the Gospel of John. All too often, they have sold their manhood cheap for a mess of pragmatic porridge they hope will lend them the title of “culturally relevant” or “politically effective.” This is particularly clear on the issue of women in the military. As the number of girls and mothers returning from foreign wars in body bags rises, our collective consciousness towards the moral wrong of placing our nation’s daughters in harm’s way becomes increasingly seared. Like the murder of the unborn, we have learned to be tolerant of that which is barbaric and unnatural. We have even learned to cheer when women go off to war to die in the place of men.
But it was not so on February 19, 1945. Iwo Jima was a battle fought by men in defense of women and children. When I ask the combat veterans of Iwo what they think it would have been like to have nineteen-year-old girls hit the black sand beaches with them, they stare at me and stammer, usually unable to process my question. The thought is incomprehensible.
There were no female combatants on Iwo Jima. There were not even female non-combatants. Quite simply, there were no women. Of the more than 100,000 Japanese and Americans fighting over that rock in the Pacific, not one was a woman. This was a battle for men.
The message of “women and children first” was not lost to the fathers on Iwo Jima. Their letters tell the stories of dads who made it their mission to communicate the ancient chivalric code of manly virtues to their sons by example and by written word.
And sixty years later, their sons have not forgotten. John Butler, Jr. remembers. He remembers because the code of his father was written down. It has been preserved for more than half a century, during which time it has been repeatedly read.
“We are Here to Honor Our Fathers”
Leonard and Fletcher Isacks are precisely the type of men who our team had hoped to meet. Big, strong, hearty, confident, outspoken — they approached me after I delivered a brief address to the Iwo veterans by announcing to me, “We are making this trip to honor our father and preserve the legacy of our grandfather.”
But that was not the half of it.
Over the course of our adventure in the Pacific, my staff came to know and appreciate these grateful sons for their devotion to multi-generational faithfulness. Where other men have hobbies, the Isacks brothers have devoted significant energies to recording, preserving, and studying the more than twelve hundred pages of letters documenting the lives of their father and grandfather, men they describe as having a deep, abiding Christian faith.
Now they returned to honor their grandfather who died during the bloody battle and to fulfill their father’s life-long dream to visit the island — a dream which, due to his untimely death three years ago, was never realized.
Like “Johnny Boy” Butler, the Isacks brothers carried with them cases of documents that reveal the Christian faith, manly leadership and fatherly devotion of their ancestor. In 1943, their grandfather, Leonard Smith Isacks, Jr. — then father to three children — joined the United States Marines Corps. On February 19, 1945, 1st Lt. Isacks hit the beaches of Iwo Jima as operations officer for the 5th Motor Transport Battalion, 5th Marine Division. On D+1, 1st Lt. Isacks was mortally wounded in his foxhole. The following day, he died aboard the hospital ship S.S. Samaritan and was buried at sea.
Incredibly, during his twenty-three months of service in the Marine Corps leading up to his death, Leonard and his wife, Sue, wrote more than twelve hundred pages of letters to each other, each of which have been preserved.
I found one of 1st Lt. Isacks’ letters especially poignant. On Sunday, December 17, 1944, he gave his sons the following bit of counsel they would cherish and re-read throughout their lives:
Bryan and Leonard (uncle and father to the two brothers we met) were ages eight and five, respectively, at the time of their father’s death, yet they hung tenaciously to the testimony of their departed dad. Their lives were defined by his example.
Following in his father’s footsteps, Leonard Scott Isacks, Sr. joined the Marine Corps in the late ‘50s where he served with distinction. Leonard would later receive the Navy Marine Corps medal for heroism for saving the life of a fellow Marine. Leonard left the Marine Corps a Sergeant to start his family and raise his two sons, Leonard Scott Isacks, Jr. and Fletcher Bryan Isacks — our traveling companions, and two impressive members of the League of Grateful Sons.
Our Fathers Have Told Us, Therefore We Have Hope
We have heard with our ears, O God, our fathers have told us, what work thou didst in their days, in the times of old. How thou didst drive out the heathen with thy hand, and plantedst them; how thou didst afflict the people, and cast them out. For they got not the land in possession by their own sword, neither did their own arm save them: but thy right hand, and thine arm, and the light of thy countenance, because thou hadst a favour unto them.... [W]e have not forgotten thee, neither have we dealt falsely in thy covenant. Our heart is not turned back, neither have our steps declined from thy way. (Psalm 44:1-3,17-18)
The clear message of Holy Scripture is this: Fathers will teach the next generation, or they will lose the next generation; Fathers will speak to the next generation about the many providences of God in protecting and preserving them, or the next generation will be without hope; Fathers will cultivate gratitude, or they will produce a generation of ingrates. God will not be mocked: We will either walk beside our sons and teach them to honor their fathers, or there will be no nation for America to defend.
There is another side of the story of the League of Grateful Sons which I reluctantly relate. It is the story of tragic fathers and lost children. We met some of these men too — men in the twilight of their lives who still remain aloof and uninvolved with their children and grandchildren, unwilling to speak of the past, and uninterested in offering counsel for the future. Theirs was the tragic legacy of hopelessness, and it showed.
The bottom line is this: Sons must ask, and fathers must tell. This is the most ancient principle of generational faithfulness. It is a father’s job to communicate to his sons verbally and in writing. He must communicate a code of conduct. This code must include the many virtues of manhood including devotion to the God of the Bible, fair fighting, purity, the defense of women and children, and gratitude for the country which God has given to us.
Leonard Smith Isacks and John Butler, Sr. did just this. They did this at home and from the battlefield. Their sons and grandsons have drawn strength from their enduring written testimony — and do so even today, over sixty years later.
Will All the Daddies Come Home?
The truth is this: Despite lives cut off in their prime, fathers like John Butler and Leonard Isacks did more to communicate hope and meaning to their sons than do typical fathers who enjoy a lifetime of opportunity. Through the simple acts of letter-writing, fatherly counsel, and manly leadership, these fathers of Iwo Jima made a deposit of counsel and wisdom into the accounts of the sons’ lives which yielded unimaginably rich dividends to the present day. Their words continue to inspire. And the principle of the patriarch has become the heart of the sons.
One of Leonard Smith Isacks’ final letters to his boys beautifully models this principle:
December 17, 1944
My Dear Little Boys:
I won’t be able to give you a Christmas present personally this year, but I do want you to know that I think of you all of the time and feel very proud of the way you have been helping your Mother while I am gone. I know that it is natural for young, healthy and strong boys like you are to want to play and have fun all of the time; but I do want you to think about helping Mummie, because it is so hard for her to do everything while I am gone.
I know that you would like to give me X-mas present too, so I will tell you what you can do, and this will be your X-mas present to me. Everyday ask Mummie if there are any errands that you can go on for her, and when there are errands to run for her say “sure Mummie” and give her a big smile; then during the day go up to your room and look around, if there are toys scattered all around, or you left some of your clothes on the floor; pick them up; also, when Mummie is busy trying to clean up the house, don’t leave her by herself, but ask Mummie if you can help take care of baby sister. If you will do these things for me, that will be the finest X-mas present that you could give me. Oh, yes, and CC, are you eating your meals like a real man now?
Well my boys, I guess you often wonder why people fight and have wars, and why lots of daddies have to be away at X-mas time fighting, when it would be much nicer to be at home. That’s a hard question to answer. But, you see, some countries like Japan and Germany, have people living in them, just like some people you and I know. Those people want to tell everyone what they can do and what they can’t do. No one likes to be told how to live their life. I know that you certainly wouldn’t like it if one of the boys in the neighborhood tried to tell you what church you should go to, what school you should go to and particularly if that boy was always trying to “beat up” some smaller and weaker boy. You wouldn’t like it, would you? And, unfortunately the only way to make a person stop these sorts of things, or a country like Japan or Germany, is to fight them and beat them... and teach them that being a bully (because after all that’s what they are) is not the way to live and that we won’t put up with it. What does all of this mean to you? Just simply this, my boys, Dad, doesn’t want you to ever be a bully, I won’t you to always fight against anyone who tries to be one; I want you to always help the smaller fellow, or the little boy who may not be as strong as you; I want you to always share what you have with the other fellow.... If you and lots of other boys try to do things that Dad has been talking about in this letter, if may be that people will not have to fight wars in the years to come and then all of the Daddies of the world will be home for Christmas, and that is where they belong. Perhaps some of the things that I have been talking about... you don’t quite understand. If you don’t, Mummie will explain them to you, as she knows....
God Bless you, Daddy
Leonard Smith Isacks was one daddy who never did come home. But through his devoted fatherhood expressed in thousands of pages of letters filled with faith, exhortations to manly virtues, and tenderhearted compassion, he secured a permanent residence in the heart of generations yet to be born, generations who would remember him as a patriot and patriarch whose legacy of love shaped the life and destiny of a grateful family dynasty.
Sixty years later, his children’s children’s children speak of him, look at his pictures, study his words, and vow never, ever to forget. They are yet another testimony to the eternal truth that God blesses sons who honor their fathers, and honors fathers who bless their sons.
These are the true children of Iwo Jima — an army devoted to the memory of their fallen fathers. They are the latest inductees in a six thousand-year society of father-honoring boys known as “The League of Grateful Sons.”
Remember the days of old, consider the years of many generations. Ask your father and he will show you; the elders and they will tell you. (Deuteronomy 32:7)
For a modern day day opportunity to honor veterans, join Doug Phillips at a memorial day celebration this Monday, May 25. Click here for more details.
The above is an excerpt from the book The Little Boy Down the Road: Short Stories and Essays on the Beauty of Family Life.